That’s right. Y’all get a special treat today. I’m posting a small, unedited portion of the upcoming third book in the Monstrum Chronicles, “Memento Mori”. Just a taste of what’s to come. Expect more madness… Just about 8 months until the release! Start counting those days!
The following is copyrighted to Katherine Silva, 2014.
“The Lindstrom Block Apartment building was a four story sandstone structure squeezed between one of Seraphim’s inner city leather shops and the Mercury Coffee House. At that late hour, the malty aromas of roasted coffee beans were like sugar left to caramelize on the burner too long. They’d dispersed enough by now so they barely tinged the night air. Grey clouds still coated the sky, rain cascading on the city. A strange green pall seemed to be cast over the world from the mist.
The bus had dropped Whit nearly a block from Lindstrom and so he’d trudged through the rain to get there, his leather jacket hardly protecting him from the deluge. Unlocking the glass front door and pushing in, he was greeted by the familiar, dark front hall. It was a narrow walkway that ran further into the building, guided by a green rug and no working overhead lights. He found the staircase at the end of the corridor and climbed three flights to his apartment at the end of another narrow hallway.
He moved as if in a haze, not fully paying attention to his surroundings. His mind was elsewhere, stuck back in that coffee shop, back on the project that Harper had set up for him. It was surreal, some big wig like Blumstein employing a down and out architect for such a mysterious task. He almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Fishing the key from his pocket, he poked it into the lock and pushed into his apartment. The kitchen welcomed him, the brick walls painted a deep blue and the refrigerator humming in the corner. Food, he thought, realizing how hungry he suddenly was. As if on cue, his stomach gurgled.
He made for the fridge and found a left over tuna fish sandwich. The minute his teeth sunk into the soft bread, a noxious metallic taste swarmed his mouth. He spat into the sink and looked at the sandwich. A fish’s head and tail poked out from either end of the soggy bread and a bite-mark in the fish’s soft underbelly showed blood and tiny near-transulscent bones poking out from it. As he threw the sandwich into the trash below the sink, he paused, staring at it in the bottom of the trash bin. I never made a tuna fish sandwich.
When he turned around, the colors of his apartment seemed to blur and blend, shimmering as they shifted into the pale, sun warmed beige walls of the house he’d grown up in. But this familiar place, this warm stronghold of his past wasn’t accompanied by feelings of safety or warmth. Only fear. Only pain.
The instinct to run was an invisible weight on his chest. He spun around, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He saw the front door glowing like a beacon before him. As he closed his hand around its cold brass knob, he remembered the terrible truth waiting for him if he went through. It lay in the soft bristles of green grass, infecting the early morning summer air, and the soft, tick-ticking of the sprinklers.
He turned. The back door. It’s the only other way out of here. He sprinted for it but stopped short when he found the door wide open already. Outside beneath the sherbet colors on the horizon, he saw the pond. It was flat and still, the colors in the afternoon sky bathing it in orange and pink hues. As he ran toward it, a high-pitched whine cut out all other noises around him.
At the end of a rickety dock, he frantically untied the mooring line for the row boat. But once he’d stepped in, the unbalance he’d expected wasn’t slight. The boat flipped, sending him careening into the water below. His vision was suddenly lost in a murky cloud of silt.”
Cooking Adventure coming tomorrow. Stay tuned!